another way to say falling asleep
by sexyvanillatiger
Summary: He returned like light on a string, and for some crazy reason, you thought he would stay; Dean's POV. Gen.


He returned like light on a string, and for some crazy reason, you thought he would stay. You never questioned how suddenly he was placed back in your grasp, how suddenly he accepted your crushing hold. You never wondered when you might next lose him because you wouldn't let your mind go that far. He was your younger brother, and you weren't supposed to worry about losing him.

And you didn't.

But now? In your arms? You push hair out of his eyes and Sam is shooting something off in the distance. You try to wipe blood off of his lip and only end up smearing it. Adam, you try to say, but the word comes out as a butchered breath. Adam, kid, stay with me, stay with me.

You never asked how soon they would take him from you. You always had faith in yourself and everyone who only just saw his smile that nothing would harm him, not with everything he had already gone through and how much life he should have had left to live. You had some sort of strange faith in the world that you'd never had before, and here in your arms lies the proof of the world's betrayal.

"Dean," he gasps, a watery sound and you think maybe he's crying until you see the blood streaming from the corner of his mouth. Your gut twists and memories hit you like a sucker punch to the gut. "Dean, go. Kill them."

"Adam, no, we gotta get you to safety." You're desperate and you know it and he knows it and if only you could pull yourself out of the moment to smack a little sense into you, you would. But all you can do is hold your brother tighter, apologize when he winces and make a small, pained sound.

"Dean, save Sam," he says, and you shake your head immediately because Sam knows damn well what he's doing. You taught him well, you know that. You have faith in that. Adam is the brother that needs your help right now, and he's the one you're holding onto until death curls its cold, proverbial claws around him and drags him out of your grasp.

"I'm not letting you go, Adam. I'm never gonna let you go."

"That's nice, Dean," he wheezes, teeth stained red and eyes rolling back into his head under the heavy weight of the pain, "but I'm dying." It hurts that he still sounds so much like your brother when he's so close to the edge. There's a wetness on his cheek that may be tears, and it takes you only a moment to realize they're your own. A sob catches painfully in your throat. He grapples for purchase on your jacket, clutching it in a weak grip. "I love you, Dean. I wish," he turns his head, coughs, spits blood and looks back up at you, "I wish I could've known you sooner."

And then he stares up at you like he's waiting. But you have nothing to say. You try, but all you can manage is a weak, "I love you, too." He just nods and you realize that he's not waiting on you. He's waiting to die. Like he knows he won't make it. Your face twists in an agony to which you're too accustomed, but the emotional strain never lightens. He smiles, closes his eyes and goes limp in your grasp. A heavy hand on your shoulder catches your attention.

"Dean, dude, wake up."

"Sammy?"

"Um, no. Sam's in the shower. Come on, we're leaving when he gets out." Adam throws clean clothes at you and you start, jumping up and staring at him like you've never seen him before. He responds with a wary glance but offers you nothing more as he begins picking up after both of his big brothers.

"Adam," you gasp, realizing that you're covered in a cold sweat in your t-shirt in a hotel room somewhere between Bumfuck, Egypt and You Got A Purdy Mouth. Realizing that Adam is within arm's reach and you grab him, pulling him close and hugging him tight even when he tries to push away from you.

"Jesus, what's wrong with you?" he snarls into your shoulder, muffled and somehow endearing, because he's alive.

"Um…if you guys want your moment, I can…" You turn your head to see Sam jerk his thumb back in the direction of the bathroom, his other hand securing a fluffy, white towel around his waist, and you smile, still not letting Adam go.

"Nah, it's fine."

The high of relief subsides and your stomach twists unhappily. You sniffle, rub the back of your neck and begin to sort through the clothes Adam pulled out for you.

For some reason, you always thought he would be the one having the nightmares.


End file.
